He is a feather in the wind
Have you ever noticed the clouds at the hour or so before the sun sets; they look like paintings. With blue then white, yellow and this beautiful peach as the foreground, with almost a shadow on the trees below as if they are blankets; they engulf the sky; their ruffles dispersing the ominous expanse.
If/when we move, finally perhaps a drawing room. Room enough to copy the beautiful sky to where i can see it all the time. It may be mountanious, and i am ever so willing to go after Senior year... id rather stay here, looking out of this window, better to move later than move from that sky now.
Now it is dull, a mauve landscape of a blank canvas. Until tomorrow, until the skies of Paris stretch their wings across the ocean to settle and welcome the day to us.
If/when we move, finally perhaps a drawing room. Room enough to copy the beautiful sky to where i can see it all the time. It may be mountanious, and i am ever so willing to go after Senior year... id rather stay here, looking out of this window, better to move later than move from that sky now.
Now it is dull, a mauve landscape of a blank canvas. Until tomorrow, until the skies of Paris stretch their wings across the ocean to settle and welcome the day to us.